


The Taste of Lies

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Kink Meme, Punishment, mouth soaping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:39:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9630056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Credence is seen with Graves when he's supposed to be handing out pamphlets; when confronted about it, he tries to make excuses.  But Mary Lou is not impressed, and decides to give him a punishment that fits the crime.





	

Credence really hadn’t come home much later than usual.  He’d learned that lesson once already; if he was to meet with Graves, it needed to be during the daylight hours.  Being around Mr. Graves was comforting, somehow.  Maybe it was the thought that someone cared about him enough to ask how he felt, someone who seemed to value him for the person he was, or maybe it was as simple as receiving a gentle human touch.  As he walked back to the church, he felt relaxed enough even to smile.  But as soon as he pushed open the door, his stomach dropped and any happiness or calm he may have felt was wiped from his features.

 

Mary Lou was waiting for him just inside the doorway, and from the look on her face alone, Credence knew to cringe.  Whatever this was, it was not going to end well.  His voice was quiet, submissive as he spoke.  “Yes, Ma?”

 

“I saw you talking to a man.”  Mary Lou’s voice was low and dangerous.

 

Credence’s lips parted, as if he were about to say something in protest, but he didn’t yet know what she would be accusing him of and so didn’t want to put himself in more trouble than he already was.  Instead, his tongue darted out to flick nervously across his upper lip.  

 

This flash of guilt did not go unnoticed by Mary Lou, and instantly she knew that he must be trying to hide something.  She continued, “You followed him into a pastry shop.  He bought you food.”

 

Credence’s hands shook, but he tried to defend himself.  “I was only trying to spread the truth, Ma.  I was only following him because thought that if I kept talking to him, I could convince him to read my pamphlets--!”

 

_ Slap! _

 

“Don’t lie to me, Credence.  I saw you throw away the rest of your pamphlets to follow him.”

 

“Y-you don’t understand.  That’s not what I was--I was just--!”  Credence knew now that punishment would be coming, but he was trying to stall, almost as if he felt Mr. Graves could somehow help him now.

 

“Are you talking back to me, Credence?”  Mary Lou’s voice was so soft that she could be nothing less than furious.

 

“No!  I’m just telling you, that’s not what I was doing.  I didn’t…”  Credence tried to take a step back, afraid of the implicit threat in her words, but found himself with his back pressed against the door.  His voice trailed off; there was nowhere for him to go.

 

“I saw you, Credence.  Are you calling me a liar?”

 

Credence’s eyes went wide.  Even though they were of a height, he always felt as if he was looking up at Mary Lou, and now he was cornered.  He whimpered, apologetic.  “Ma, no, I didn’t mean…”

 

She took a step toward him.  Without even being struck again, Credence already wanted to cry.  Her voice was louder now, almost at her normal speaking volume.  “I told you what I saw.  You’re denying it.  Either you are lying or I am.  So, which is it?”

 

Credenced paused.  He was not sure what to say--there was nothing he could say.  If he tried to deny it again, he’d be calling her a liar; if he admitted to following Mr. Graves, he’d be punished for disobedience.  In the end, he decided it was best to accept his punishment now rather than to fight her.  His voice trembled.  “You’re not a liar, ma’am.”

 

“So you admit you were lying.”   _ Slap! _   The back of Mary Lou’s hand struck his face with a sharp noise that the others must have been able to hear through the thin walls.  She leaned in toward him and said, almost a whisper, “Disobedience is one thing.  Lying multiplies the sin twice.  We’re going to have to deal with this.”

 

Credence’s voice shook, as if he was already trying to hold back a sob.  “Ma,  _ please _ \--!”  But he knew better than to fight her once she’d made up her mind, knew that it would only make his punishment that much worse.  His trembling hands moved to his belt buckle, and he began to unfasten it.  To his surprise, he was interrupted.

 

“No, Credence.  Follow me.”  Mary Lou turned around and began to walk away, and Credence followed after her without a thought.  Rather than up the stairs, she led him into the kitchen.  “Come here.”  Credence obediently stepped toward her, though his face bore a look of trepidation.  “Bend over the sink.”

 

Credence was confused.  Was she going to beat him with some kitchen utensil, perhaps a wooden spoon?  Instead, her hand reached out to turn on the faucet.  He surely didn’t understand this.  But he did as he was told, bracing his hands against the edge of the sink and bending over the basin.

 

Mary Lou picked up the soap resting beside the sink and held it under the tap.  As the water ran over the bar of soap, she began to maneuver it in her hand, turning it over and over against her palm until she’d worked up a thin coat of bubbles around the bar.  Once she had done so, she held the bar up in front of Credence’s face and ordered, “Open up.”

 

Of all the things Mary Lou had done to punish him, this had never happened before.  Credence whined and looked back over his shoulder, his eyes wide and pleading.   _ Please don’t do this. _   Her stare was firm as she looked him in the eye expectantly.  But the harsh scent of the soap already burned at Credence’s nostrils, and he could not bring himself to obey her.  His lips pressed tightly shut, beyond his control.

 

Mary Lou shook her head.  “If you want to do this the hard way, we’ll do it the hard way.”  Before Credence realized what she was doing, her free hand and reached around behind him and grasped his nose, pinching his nostrils shut between her fingers.  “I said,  _ open up _ .”

 

Very quickly, Credence realized what the gesture was meant to accomplish.  Unable to breathe through his nose, he would eventually have to breathe through his mouth.  His lungs burned as he tried to fight it, his head jerking away but unable to shake her grasp on his nose.  There was nothing else for it.  Credence’s mouth opened to take in a great gasp of air, and a second later Mary Lou had shoved the bar of soap between his lips.  Mercifully, now that she had gotten what she wanted she released his nose and allowed him to breathe.

 

Mary Lou began slowly and methodically to rub the soap against Credence’s tongue.  In and out of his mouth it went, the suds around his mouth and lips getting thicker and more opaque with each movement.  He could feel a slick froth building up around his mouth, the harshness of it already beginning to sting at his lips.  He realized very quickly that keeping his lips closed around the bar was only increasing the friction and making more bubbles, and he finally opened his mouth wide so that he could at least get some air.

 

Mary Lou gave a satisfied hum.  “That’s it.  Now you’re being obedient.”  She lifted the soap for a moment, not removing it from Credence’s mouth completely, but at least no longer touching his tongue.  Credence gasped and sputtered, taking advantage of the brief respite to clear some of the suds from his mouth.  He couldn’t tell if the need to gag was from the lather which had been creeping toward the back of his throat or from the acrid taste of the soap.  But his relief didn’t last for long.  “Stick out your tongue.”

 

Credence didn’t know if he could handle any more; it was cruel.  But he certainly didn’t want her to keep him from breathing again, nor to beat him on top of all this (not that he could be certain she wasn’t already planning to do so).  His mouth remained open wide, and a whimper rose from the back of his throat as slowly, reluctantly, he stuck his tongue out of his mouth.

 

Mary Lou returned immediately to the task at hand.  She scrubbed the bar against the flat of his tongue, even more viciously than before. The friction of the bar against his wet tongue and lips was producing more and more bubbles.  The lather was thick and harsh, and was building up more rapidly now that she was rubbing against the full length of his tongue.  Suds had begun to drip down his chin even as they threatened to go down his throat.

 

Credence made a choking sound, and he felt tears beginning to sting at his eyes, much as the vile taste of the soap was burning at his mouth and lips.  He wanted to gasp for air, but was afraid he might breathe in some of the lather.  Even breathing through his nose proved difficult, as he struggled to focus on anything other than the horrible sensation of the soap moving in and out of his mouth.

 

Finally, tears had begun to stream down his face.  It was difficult to say if the shuddering of his shoulders was from choking or sobbing, or perhaps it was a combination of both.  He hoped that his crying would earn him some mercy.

 

Mary Lou indeed seemed satisfied with his tears.  Maybe that was what she had been waiting for.  She stopped rubbing the soap against his tongue and simply held it in place.  Credence waited desperately for her to remove it, but instead he heard, “Close your mouth.”

 

He whined, perhaps trying to form words, to beg, but he could not use his tongue.  More tears streamed down his face as his eyes shut tightly in a fit of coughing.  In the end, he obediently closed his lips around the bar.  His throat heaved and his body bent further over the sink, lather dripping down his chin and spattering against the bottom of the basin.

 

Mary Lou addressed him again.  “We are only to bear witness to the truth!”  She lowered her voice now, still brusque but no longer shouting.  “Which of our Lord’s commandments did you break by lying?  If you can tell me, I’ll put the soap away and you can rinse out your mouth.  If not, it goes right back in.  Do you understand?”

 

Credence nodded his head forcefully.  “ _ Mmhmmm. _ ”  Anything, anything to be done with this.  

 

“All right.”  Credence opened his lips for her to remove the soap.  Immediately he gasped out, “The eighth commandment, ma’am.  Thou shalt not bear false witness.”

 

Mary Lou nodded.  “Good.  Now rinse out that foul mouth of yours and get to bed without supper.  I want you to remember the taste of lies.”  She watched intently as bent over the sink, spitting out the vile lather from his mouth.  

 

Spittle mixed with soap dripped down his chin, as if it insisted on clinging to him.  Credence turned on the tap and cupped his hands under the running water, bringing them desperately to his lips.  He swished the water inside his mouth, trying to remove as much of the soap as he could, spitting it back into the sink and replacing it with more water.  Swish, spit.  And again.  He rubbed his tongue against the roof and sides of his mouth, trying to scrub the last of it out, but even that could not entirely get rid of the acrid taste.  A thin film of soapy residue remained behind, as if to remind him to behave and to keep his mouth clean.

 

Mary Lou’s keen eyes held a small amount of satisfaction as she watched him gasping, coughing, crying, leaving the thick lather in the basin of the sink to swirl down the drain.

 

When he was finished, convinced that there was nothing more he could do to rid himself of the lingering, bitter taste of the soap, Credence brought his hands down under the faucet one last time.  He splashed the water over his face, washing away the last of his tears and spittle and the lather.  His eyes and his cheeks were red from his tears, his lips and chin from the harsh soap.

 

When he had finished cleaning up, Mary Lou addressed herself to him.  “What do you say to me, for helping you to become a better and more truthful person?”

 

Credence lowered his head.  The bitter taste of the soap was nothing to the taste of the words on his tongue.  “Thank you, ma’am.”

 

She nodded, satisfied.  “Now, go to your room.”

  
Credence nodded, then left the kitchen to walk up the stairs.  Once in his room, he curled up in his bed and took out his handkerchief, continuing to spit the foul taste out of his mouth until he fell asleep.


End file.
